trolleys in lamenting his book-bag—shakes,
the innumerable pictographs, splays
conking the floor like paralytic weights,
if our Maine bungalow were
own private—“Mr. Sipe keeps telling our whole
a rogue soprano hiding out in the altos.’”
is a certain hokiness when my son imitates
teachers—an affection not lost on either party.
is vamping now . . . .
tuft of auburn hair will not find
(his head blossoming, rooting, inside and out).
coil the curl with my fingertips. He is just now
He no longer woos me.
impertinence startles him
I stow his brief attentiveness like a
fatuously, into my pocket.
his voice, too, will be hijacked by the gods
devils of arduous hormones. For now,
Lee Zuras was born and raised in Virginia, and earned his BA at George Mason
University. He earned his MFA as the McNeese Fellow under the auspices of
Pulitzer Prize winner Robert Olen Butler, before doing Ph.D. work in North
Dakota under the late poet Jay Meek. His work has been published in South Dakota Review, Weber Studies, Passages
North, Confrontation, Red Rock Review, Chicago Quarterly Review, Big Muddy,
Xavier Review, Story Quarterly, Confrontation, Laurel Review, Lake Effect,
Jabberwock Review, and elsewhere. He has held scholarships at Bread Loaf
and Wesleyan University, and has garnered a Yemassee Award. Currently, Richard is
Professor of Creative Writing at the University of Maine at Presque Isle, where
he lives with his wife, two sons, and a red Siberian Husky.